


holy places

by ollie_outie



Series: gamzee week 2019 [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, i have a weird relationship with faith and projected that onto gamz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:06:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ollie_outie/pseuds/ollie_outie
Summary: Gamzee week day one- church,





	holy places

Church is different now, you think. Prayer is whispered stead of shouted, screamed, _motherfucking howled_ til your voices were rough and ragged and fit to call down the moons. Holy places are colored with paint and glass, candles lighting echo big rooms faint and hollow. You miss the old smells, the fizzing sugar tang in the air, way it tangled with the rich copper of paint to make something miraculous. You miss quick tents built to be set up and torn down on a whim, nothing permanent as the standing stone monuments you make pilgrimage to now.  
Pews are set rough hewn but orderly, nothing like the prayer circles you'd make with your brothers and sisters few times you could travel out with the tents, few times you prayed with them because it felt sacred, stead of with the heavy motherfucking obligation sitting in your gut now.  
No siblings can see you here, no bodies to watch you sink down on shaking knees, cross your fronds over your chest to pray. Not with the quiet of the new faith, nor the howls of the gods you grew with, but silent, head bowed and words kept between you and the Messiahs.  
You're not sure, quite, what you pray for, had nothing in mind when your feet started carrying you here. You know what you want; respite, peace, to sit again with those as felt the faith in their pushers rather than in cold words, to feel motherfucking _clean_ again when you step into the church, rid yourself of the tar crawling up your spine, choking you out with its weight in your lungs. But this place, these gods, you ain't thinking they'd be willing to grant.  
You leave behind stones and glass, and feel a guilt familiar and creeping and clawing when you notice you are more at peace crossing out its doorway again than you were the entire time you were in the church.  
__________________

Holy means something different in the here and now. Blood is holy, you think, you still see divinity in its shedding, still see jewel tones ( _only sometimes do you see bright bright red, most holy and blasphemous and_ beloved _red, and that sight is kept close to your pusher, kept safe and sound and tucked away_ ) splattered on walls and earth and claim that a miracle.  
Fear is still holy, rage is holy, to feel it all singing in your pan and know yourself for more than corpse meat, feel real for as long as it lasts, almost like a prayer in its own right.  
Church as you knew it, might not have ever been holy, sweet as some of those memories are. Nothing particular holy, particular _godly_ , in a wriggler sitting lonely on his beach while sermons shouted from stars away blew out his husktop speakers, waiting, _hoping, praying_ for better nights to come.  
Church then was splatter stained cloth tents, built to put up and take take down as whimsy dictated. Church was tiny static-crackle-pop voices crawling out your speakers, was message boards with familiar waving purple text, was sitting under stars and moons and knowing them as miracles.  
Church now, church as feels holy and right, is warm voices, spread over crowded rooms instead of across galaxies, is sitting in a rough circle and not quite making amends with those you've wronged but fuck are you trying.  
Holy now is sitting on beaches again but never so lonely as before, is feeling the new sun bearing down on you and finding beauty in the way it burns, is feeling a hot little hand in your own and knowing you'd kill to protect him, and knowing just as well you won't have to here.

**Author's Note:**

> Im on tumblr as @ihadnobetterideasforaurl if y'all feel like talking to me,


End file.
